On Life's Terms
by rare-fandom
Summary: A week or so into Tom’s first year at NYU, he performs blatant wizardry in front of random stranger. Fortunately for him, there are no coincidences. Tom/Carl, rated M for detailed sexual content in the second chapter and a few curse words throughout.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N Much thanks goes to my tireless beta desrose, for thinking up the title and allowing me to poke at her. __Also, Diane Duane is the Power That Be behind this wonderful universe, and I thank her mucho mucho for letting us play in it._

**"But do thy worst to steal thyself away, **

**For term of life thou art assumed mine; **

**And life no longer than thy love will stay, **

**For it depends upon that love of thine"**

_Shakespeare's Sonnet 92_

Tom's only been at NYU for a week or so now, but he thinks he's going to do okay here.

He enjoys the campus life. He even enjoys the food. Somewhat. But what he most enjoys is his roommate, a short whirlwind of red hair, laughter, and the word fuck named Mike.

Mike likes to describe himself as "exuberant". Tom likes to describe him as a pain in the ass. Surprisingly, they get along wonderfully. It probably helps that neither has to hide his wizardy from the other.

Mike isn't here tonight though, which means Tom can finally get some reading done on the electronic thinking patterns material his advisor back in San Francisco gave him. Hopefully it'll help with his attempts to solve a territorial dispute between his record player and the school's outlet.

And because Mike is nowhere around, there's no one to make fun of him when he takes the manual with him on his way to the bathroom, nose buried in it the entire way down the hallway as he tries to puzzle out the why and hows. Which is why, when he reaches out with a small snap of power to flip on the light switch, he doesn't notice it's already on.

The person in the shower sure does.

By the time Tom remembers that wizardy isn't supposed to be done in front of outsiders he's already instinctively flipped it back on. Luckily, his moment of panic gives the other person time to find a towel before Tom turns to offer him an apology.

The man has eyes like stormy water, more grey then blue and sort of bottomless. The face they're set in is serious and well defined, but saved by the scruffy mustache and the full, wide mouth it sits above. Tall, not quite Tom's 6'1" but close enough. Broad shoulders that turned into muscled arms that crossed a solid chest. Abs you could almost wash your clothes with, intersected by a trail of dark hair that leads down to…towel.

Because he'd just been in the shower. Until Tom turned off the lights on him.

He snaps his eyes back up to the other man's to find they've taken to looking between him and the light switch with a calculating stare. It's a full two feet out of Tom's arm reach.

"Oh fuck me." he whispers, and then feels the slow steady burn of a blush as those stormy eyes zero in on him.

Lacking a better response, he simply turns and walks out of the room. A handy transportation spell has him gone before the other man can catch up.

* * *

The next day he sits at a table in the far back corner of the cafeteria with Mike and his girlfriend Adriana, who prod him about his "long face" until he finally decides he might as well tell them.

They know the rules of wizardry around here better then he does, so they'll probably know what to do when you perform blatant wizardry in front of random handsome strangers using the communal shower.

At first Mark and Adriana seem like they're taking him seriously, but after he's finished they exchange slow, sly grins.

"He sounds," she remarks as she leans towards him, "like somebody you ought to get to know better."

Tom shakes his head. "You're missing the point."

"No," Mike replies, "I don't think she did. Carl!"

That last is directed at someone over Tom's shoulder, which has him turning around just in time to catch sight of the man who returns Mike's wave and starts towards their table.

It's interesting to know those abs are just as nice covered by a t-shirt.

Even as the man hugs Adrianna and slaps Mike on the shoulder, Tom knows there's no hope that he doesn't recognize him from the bathroom, what with the way those eyes (more blue then grey in the florescent lighting, he notes, like calm water on a sunny day) are studying him.

"Tom, meet my long time friend Carl J. Romeo. Carl, meet my roommate Tom Swale."

"Should have known," Carl mumbles, reaching out a hand.

"Excuse me?"

"There are no coincidences, _cousin_."

_Oh, _Tom thinks, as he shakes hands. _Well then. That solves one of my problems. _

* * *

The next year and some odd months are a blur of essays, subway rides, and learning how not to get lost in the city, during which Carl ceases to be a stranger by any sort of the imagination (although familiarity does not make him any less handsome, just easier to approach and that fact easier to ignore).

He is the one who introduces Tom to Wise potato chips dipped in ranch dressing. He's also the first to discover that, to stop Tom's rambling on whatever literary topic has caught his fancy, he need only reply with a long mathematical theorem or advanced scientific theory. Most of the time though, he seems content to let Tom babble.

Tom finds himself spending less time in libraries and more time at the school track, where he masters the art of sitting comfortably in bleacher seats while Carl does lap after lap, some of which involve hurdles.

When Adriana and Mike need the room the apartment Carl shares with his father and three sisters is a refuge of warm things cooking over a stove and the Bee Gees playing softly over the radio. René, Aida, and Donna all think he's cute and tease him with imitations of his accent whenever he visits. Carl grumbles good naturedly that he's become the favorite child and continues to periodically camp out on Tom and Mike's floor and borrow their shower after workouts.

In the fall Tom, Carl, and Mike all move into an apartment together. The place is old and furnished with mismatched pieces they find at various thrift stores and way too small for three men (and occasionally Adriana) to share, but its home to Tom and he wouldn't trade it for anything.

* * *

Shortly after the New Year, errantry catches Tom and Carl far away from backup and with a long way to go before they reach friendly territory. They are pursued by an army of the overshadowed for most of the way, which they elude when they can and use traps and minor offensive blasts to deal with rest.

Tom could curse himself for being stupid enough to think he and Carl could take on a planetary dictator aligned with the Lone Power all by themselves, but it seems like Carl's cursing enough for both of them. Plus he needs all his energy for running.

Finally there is only one left, a great hulking beast who bursts through any trap or offense in it's intent to reach them. Closer it comes each time they jump worlds, until finally it's all but breathing down their necks. Just when Tom knows they have no chance in hell, Carl suddenly turns around, hands outstretched towards their pursuer as he speaks a string of speech too fast for Tom to keep up. The blue in his eyes disappears, and then the grey, until nothing is left but dark pupil. The dark thing jolts to a stop, flopping over onto the ground like the freshly caught fish sold by the vendors on the docks. Tom doesn't have to know what spell Carl just used to know it's dead, because he can hear the precise moment that its heart stops beating.

Except for his part of the final transit spell, Carl says nothing else the entire way home.

When they come through the gate at Grand Central, Mike is waiting with a phone message from Carl's father. Carl reads it, and then vanishes without a word for four days.

The entire time he's gone Tom's dreams are haunted not by the death throes of the beast, but the dark nothingness of blue grey eyes.

On the fifth day Carl calls to let them know that René has a beautiful baby boy, two months premature but doing fine.

At the hospital they find Carl chatting with his father outside of René's room. Mike and Adriana distract him with chatter, leading him back into the room and leaving Carl and Tom alone in the hall. As soon as he's gone, Carl turns to face Tom and he notices that the other man's smile has taken on a sharp edge and that it doesn't quite meet his eyes. Tom gestures towards the elevators at the end of hall, and they set off walking side by side, not saying anything because neither knows really what the other needs to hear.

As the doors close behind them Tom reaches out and gives Carl's shoulder a squeeze, and when the other man looks at him he says "I never thanked you for saving my life back there", which garners something that's not quite a smile, but worlds better then the nothingness.

They spend most the afternoon in the gift shop picking out a teddy bear gift basket for the new mother.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N I've never been really happy with the sex scene that ends this chapter and begins the next, so I went back and did a bit of tweaking to it. As such this chapter and the chapter after are a different version than what was originally uploaded. Hope you enjoy**

Carl doesn't make Tom's actual 21st birthday party due to an unfortunately timed track meet, so the next night he presents him with a book of Native American myths and a bottle of Wild Turkey. They end up on the rug in the living room, Carl on his stomach with stocking feet in the air while Tom reads aloud to him, passing the bottle back and forth. Eventually, somehow, they find themselves involved in a game of "I Never".

Carl has never gone fishing, cheated on an exam, or given blood outside of a wizardry healing. Tom has never skinny dipped in public water, been forced to let a sister put makeup on him, and….

"I've never had sex."

Carl picks up the shot glass in front of him, salutes Tom with it, then downs it in one gulp. Afterwards, he studies Tom over the rim.

"So you've still got your cherry. Probably should have guessed."

"Yep. Want it?"

Tom has enough alcohol in his system that the offer comes out before he can stop it. Carl's eyes go dark, then angry.

"You've had enough." He almost snarls through gritted teeth, putting the cap back on the bottle. Tom pulls his shot glass out Carl's reach when he grabs for it.

"Look, I'm sorry, that just...came out. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable I just…"

"This isn't uncomfortable, it's angry."

Those eyes are more grey now then blue. Stormy.

"The first time shouldn't be some drunken fling you allowed just because you think it's not okay to be a virgin anymore. It's supposed to be awkward and fun and a little scary and something you're going to remember fondly when you're ninety years old. Especially for you. You're quality Tom, and you deserve someone who'll see that and treat you right and makes sure you really won't regret it the next morning before he goes there. And he damn well better understand what he's lucky enough to get."

Tom stares at him for a moment, which gives Carl time to snatch away his shot glass and stand up. He reaches out to grab a handful of jean, and when Carl doesn't yank it away he finds his voice.

"So the problem," he says slowly, "isn't that you mind me offering to have sex with you, but that you're too much of a gentleman to take advantage of me."

"I'm not a gentleman. I just know you're too good for that shit."

Tom shakes his head at that, but decides now isn't the time to argue.

"So do you want to go out on a date then?"

The way Carl's eyes widen would be funny if Tom wasn't so serious. Neither of them moves for a moment, then Carl heaves a sigh and goes to rinse the glasses out in the sink.

"Now I know you've had enough."

Tom leans back on the rug, stares at the cracks in the plaster of the ceiling.

"If you're going to say no then maybe I should drink a little bit more, just to make sure I don't remember this in the morning."

"I didn't say I was going to say no."

Tom sits up so quickly his vision goes a little blurry, but he doesn't notice all that much. Carl calmly sets the shot glasses on the side board to dry, and then rummages through the cabinets till he finds an actual glass to fill with water. When he's done that, he returns Tom's gaze.

"More then likely you're going to wake up tomorrow with one hell of a hangover, and once that clears you're going to realize how much of a bad idea that is. And then we'll go on from there like we've always done."

He taps the glass and utters a few words in the Speech that Tom's just intoxicated enough to not be able to follow, and then crosses to hand it to him.

"But if once the hangover goes away you decide the offer still stands, I'll probably take you up on it."

Considering this, Tom drinks down the water. And is promptly surprised when the glass is immediately full again.

"Trust me," Carl tells him, "You'll need that in the morning."

* * *

Tom wakes the next day exhausted, with a migraine the size of his home state, and is violently sick until his stomach has no more to give. Once he realizes he's not dying, he recognizes the hangover Carl predicated.

Later that night, he walks Carl home from work and asks if he can take him ice skating in Central Park. Adriana collects $10 from Mike.

Four months go by, during which ice skating is followed by an evening at Connie Island and by being treated to hot dogs from Central Park vendors during lunch breaks. Carl takes Tom to Yankee Stadium and tries to make sure he understands why they're a better team then the Mets (Tom still doesn't get it, but humors him anyway).

Tom makes him play tourist one Saturday, and they go visit Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty. Carl, who works as a radio dj on weekends for the same radio station that pays him to take phone calls and file most weekdays, sneaks Tom into the sound booth a couple of times and lets him pick the songs for the entire shift.

Tom takes him homemade potato soup for lunch one day and then teaches him how to make it when he claims that Tom's going to spoil him.

One night they sit on the roof of their building and watch the stars come out.

That is the night of their first kiss. Many more follow.

* * *

The first rainy night in August finds Tom stretched out on the sofa in between Carl's legs, his back to the other man's chest, while the TV plays some sort of mystery movie.

About halfway through the movie (which wasn't all that interesting to begin with), he feels the tickle of Carl's mustache behind his ear. As it moves to the side of his neck, he shifts his head to give better access. Carl's lips eventually make it back up to his ear, into which they whisper a reminder that nobody plans to be home till sometime the next morning.

Tom takes that as a hint.

He rolls over and takes Carl's face between his hands, giving the tip of Carl's nose a peck, then places one on his forehead. Then his fingers slide back to tangle in Carl's hair as he presses their lips together. He smiles as he feels Carl's fingers sliding under the hem of his t-shirt.

"I told you," Carl says with a teasing smirk, hands roaming Tom's back under his t-shirt, "that I'm not a gentleman."

"And I've had nothing to drink tonight." Tom replies, putting his arms up so that Carl could slip the shirt over his head. It disappears on the other side of the couch's arm as Carl pushes him back a little, following until his back meets the cushions.

A hand is planted on either side of Tom's head, and Carl takes a moment to just look. He stretches his arms above his head to give his partner a better view. Carl smirks down at him, and then lowers his head to press a kiss right below Tom's chin.

Carl's mouth moves lower, nibbling at his throat and pausing to press his tongue into the dip in Tom's collarbone. On lower, pressing open mouthed kisses down his chest, pausing to nuzzle his sternum with his nose. On lower, tickling Tom's stomach with his tongue, paying special attention to the belly button. On lower, to the top of Tom's jeans…

At which point Tom wiggles in just the wrong way and they nearly fall off the couch.

Tom's hand shoots out and grabs the edge of the coffee table to steady himself. Carl reaches for the back of the couch. They freeze for a second, look at each other with wide eyes, and then both burst out laughing. Carl leans down and whispers in his ear the question "your bed or mine", which sets him laughing again. He's not sure why it's so funny, except that maybe he's really excited and actually kind of nervous and realizing suddenly that wow, they were really going to do this. Carl smiles down at him, and with a decisive "my bed then" Tom is pulled to a standing position.

Fingers are hooked into the front of his jeans, and Carl's leading him to the bedroom. At the door he closes the gap and presses his lips to Carl's shoulder, his hands coming up to slide up Carl's stomach under his t-shirt. Somewhere in the ensuing tangle of lips and hands the t-shirt ends up on the floor beside Tom's jeans and boxers. Carl gives him a little push and he goes to sit on the edge of Carl's bed.

He realizes he doesn't feel venerable, naked like this in front of Carl, and it soothes much of the nervousness.

He watches as his partner slides his jeans and boxers down narrow hips and those long, toned legs (at which point he's grateful for every moment Carl's spent on that track) and then Carl stands naked before him and his thoughts stutter to a halt for a second. They stand there, looking at each other, and then he reaches out and pulls Carl to him.

For a while they just explore, mapping each other's skin with mouths and hands and leaving little flags in the form of love bites and finger shapped red marks. Then Carl puts him on his back again and repeats the slow journey from his chin on down. There are no jeans this time, and suddenly he can feel Carl's mustache on the inside of his right thigh. Then his left, and then in between.

His hands fist in the sheets.

Carl keeps at it until right before he's going to explode, and then releases him to crawl back up his body. His moan of disapproval is swallowed by Carl's lips, and then he's being turned around to rest on his hands and knees. He hears the sound of a drawer being opened, and looks over his shoulder to see Carl slicking his fingers. Carl looks up to meet his eyes, and the other man's voice is in his head saying "this is going to feel funny, but you're going to have to relax and trust me."

So he does.

And then Carl's finger is inside of him. He tenses at first, and then at the press of Carl's lips in-between his shoulder blades he forces himself to loosen up. It makes the process easier, and by the time the second finger gets added the slight edge of pain is gone. Carl takes a hold of his hips then, and Tom tires to stay relaxed. Even that doesn't stop the pressure that results when Carl buries himself to the hilt.

He tenses and Carl is moving, shifting backwards so that Tom is sitting in his partner's lap with said partner still inside him. Arms go around him tightly, a nose nuzzles his neck, and he realizes he's actually shaking just a bit. They sit there for a second or so, neither moving as Tom tries to get himself to relax, and then as he hears the intent in Carl's mind to tell him it's okay if he wants to stop he feels his muscles adjust slightly, the pressure beginning to give way to the feeling of being filled rather nicely. Before Carl can voice the thought he grabs for the other man's hand and squeezes it. There's a smile against his neck, and then Carl moves their joined hands in between his legs and the words "show me how you like it" are whispered in his ear.

He shivers again, this time in pleasure, and does so. After another moment or so Carl begins to move, mirroring the tempo Tom set with their hands. Tom rides that rhythm all the way over the edge, crying out Carl's name as he falls. Carl's hand shifts to his waist and he leans forward, bracing himself on his arms to give Carl a better angle as he lets out a mixture of verbal and mental encouragement and pure satisfied emotion. Shortly thereafter Carl follows him over, face buried in Tom's hair.

They allow themselves a few moments in that position, waiting while heartbeats and breathing return to normal, and then he feels his arms start to wobble. He's too relaxed to argue with them, and so he lets himself slump to the mattress, shuddering at the tingle of over stimulated skin as Carl slips out of him. He closes his eyes, feels the shift in the mattress as Carl moves to toss the condom in the trash and then settles down next to him, pulling the comforter over them both. He shifts slightly to put his back against the wall and his front to Carl's front comfortably on the twin sized mattress.

There, safe and contented and warm, he falls asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

The first thing he's aware of as consciousness seeps into his system the next morning is how loose and relaxed he feels. Like all his muscles have turned to liquid and leaked a lifetime of tension out into...wherever tension goes when it's released. The manual could probably tell him, but he's feeling too good to muster up the energy to care.

When he shifts a bit, letting out a satisfied sound, his pillow sighs and an index finger traces Tom's spine all the way down to the base before a warm palm settles on his lower back. He opens his eyes to find the hand's owner watching him with wary concern. He leans over to nuzzle Carl's shoulder. Mumbling "definitely worth the wait" earns him a laugh. The finger retraces its route, languidly mapping Tom's collar bone and then down his arm till he turns his hand over to catch the fingers with his.

He thinks he could get used to waking up like this.

When Mike and Adriana come back Carl has already left for work, leaving Tom wearing the other man's Yankees t-shirt and a goofy grin. Mike collects money from Adriana this time, and Tom is mortified to learn that his and Carl's statuses in the manual were "indisposed" for most of the night.

It doesn't do anything to erase the goofy grin.

* * *

One week before Thanksgiving he's walking home from his last class when he sees Carl's father waiting for him at the corner by their apartment. He waves in greeting, which the other man returns, but with such a serious look that Tom feels his stomach do a slow roll.

It does it again when he reaches the corner. The older man asks him to take a walk with him because they need to talk. He nods, and they walk in silence, past the apartment and down the sidewalk for almost half a block before the older Romeo stops and turns to him.

"I know about you and my son."

Tom feels the blood drain away from his face, his knees threaten to buckle under him. He wills them steady and turns to face Carl's father. He has no desire to know what his expression is like as he stares into grey eyes so like the ones he knows best.

"I..." he begins, but is stopped. The older man turns and sits down on the nearest stoop, motioning for Tom to join him.

"I've known he was," a pause, a gesture, "since he was a senior in high school. I was getting a glass of water late one night and saw him kissing another boy in the front hallway. He didn't know I saw him, and I never said anything." A shrug of the shoulders. "I thought it must be a phase, that he'd grow out of it. I can't explain why, except maybe that the church tells me that such things are a sin. But I look at my Carl and I know he's a good person, not what the clergy tell me someone like that is."

He pauses for a second.

"But he never did grow out of it. Every so often I'd see him with some guy and they'd be looking at each other in a certain way, or he'd get this look talking about someone and I'd know. And then lately there's been you."

He turns to Tom again, a hesitant smile on his lips.

"I think my son's in love with you."

"Good, because I'm in love with him."

The words are out of his mouth before he even has time to think about them, but as soon as they leave his lips he knows that they're probably the truest ones he's ever spoken.

Carl's father nods, satisfied. "If it was anybody else but you, I'm not….I don't think I'd be this calm about it. But you're a good boy, and I'd trust you with one of my daughters. All things considered, I think I could get used to the idea of trusting you with my son."

He doesn't have anything to say to that at first, and for another moment they sit there on the stoop in companionable silence, watching the traffic go by.

"Thank you," he says, finally. "That means a lot to me."

Tom turns to face the other man. "You should probably tell Carl all of this. He hates having to keep things like this from you."

Carl's father breathes a sigh, and stands up, shaking his head.

"I will, someday. When I'm absolutely sure I'm comfortable with this, when I know we can speak frankly about it, then we'll talk. But until then, I'm going to ask that you to keep this conversation to yourself. Who knows, maybe it won't be for that long. "

Tom nods. The older man smiles, and reaches down a hand to help him up. They shake, and then Carl's father puts his hands in his pockets and turns to go. After a few steps, though, he stops and turns back.

"Welcome to the family."

* * *

In the spring Tom takes Carl to visit his great aunt Sofia, who is the only other practicing wizard in the family. She is also the one who helped his father look after him and his sisters when their mother died.

Carl moves through the rooms with the easy grace of someone who's practically lived there every summer for most of his life. The house is so inviting, Sofia so open, that Tom soon finds himself doing almost the same thing. He isn't sure what to make of the cryptic koi or the parrot who seems to know more then she's telling and likes to perch on his shoulder.

At the end of the week Tom is sitting on the back steps watching the koi burble in their pond when Carl comes to sit beside him, one step lower so that his long legs are stretched out and his ankles are crossed on the grass.

"Aunt Sofia wants to give me the house."

It's said without preamble. Tom looks over at his partner, who doesn't return the look.

"We talked about it last night. She wants to move down to Kentucky so she can be there when my cousin Alice has her baby. And since she knows I won't sell the house and because I need a place to Practice without bumping into anyone, I seem like the logical choice."

Tom can see the line of tension in Carl's shoulders, and wants to reach out and soothe it away. Except he doesn't know why it's there, or what he could do to solve it, and so he keeps his hands to himself and let's Carl get out everything he needs to.

"She also thought it'd be a great place for me to eventually settle down and live the picket fence life with a wife and 2.5 kids, but I think we've kind of established that's not going to happen."

This time he does look at Tom.

"She really likes you, you know. Seems to think you're good for me. She wouldn't mind if you….. "

He breaks off and turns his eyes to stare at the back lawn. Tom thinks he hears a groan of disappointment coming from the fish pond.

"How do you get .5 of a child?"

That isn't quite what Tom means to say, but it's the first safe thing that he can make come off of his tongue. Carl's shoulders shrug. The fish groan again.

"I don't know. Maybe it's really small."

"Then maybe we could get dogs instead. Two normal sized ones and a really small one."

The look that Carl gives him this time is so wide eyed, so hopeful, and is worth every ounce of control it takes for Tom to keep his voice casual (i_steady/i_).

"Is that a yes?"

A grin starts to spread across his face. "Depends. Ask me properly."

Carl turns slowly, moving so they're facing one another, his knees on the bottom step. Tom tries to smoother the grin, because this is apparently serious business, but when Carl takes his hands he finds he can't.

"I don't want you to go back to California. I want you to stay here with me, in this house. We'd keep on being partners and you can write without having to worry about stupid neighbors and yes, if you want we can get dogs. Just stay. Please."

And then they're falling, because Tom has thrown his arms around Carl's neck and knocked him off balance and sent them tumbling into the grass.

Neither is noticing though, because Tom is saying yes. /lj-cut


End file.
